The Yamaku Foundation
by Dorylus
Summary: From confession to hospitalisation to a government conspiracy involving the end of the world, it's not going to be a quiet ride for Hisao Nakai as he descends into the belly of the beast. A series of oneshots, with continuation in some cases, combining two unlikely universes. Alternative POV chapters from fourth chapter onward.
1. Relative Concepts

**The Yamaku Foundation**

* * *

 **Relative Concepts**

* * *

~ **Hisao's POV** ~

The gate looked far too pompous for what it was. In fact, gates in general seem to do that, but this one especially so. Red bricks, black wrought iron and grey plaster, assembled into a whole that didn't feel welcoming at all. I wondered if it looked like what a gate for a school should look like, but couldn't really decide. Probably no. Of course, I didn't want to get stuck on thinking about the gate for too long, so I entered through it with a brisk pace that felt surprisingly good. Moving forward feels good.

So I walk toward the main building of Yamaku Academy with this brisk pace. I'm alone, as my parents are taking my stuff to the dorms, and there's supposed to be someone waiting for me. The grounds are incredibly lush, filled with green. It doesn't feel like the kind of grounds a school would have, more like a park, with a clean walkway going past trees and the smell of fresh-cut grass and all other park-like things. Words like "clean" and "hygienic" pop into my mind. It makes me shudder. I shake them off. Stay open-minded now. It's your new life. You have to take it as it comes. That's what I tell myself.

A few big buildings loom behind the leafy canopies, too big and too many for just a school. Everything seems off; it's different from what I thought I knew about schools. It's an uncanny valley. Even though I was told this is my new school, in the back of my head it doesn't feel like one. I wonder if the feeling is real or caused by my expectations of a school for the disabled. Speaking of that, I don't see anyone else here. It's kinda eerie. It makes me wish there was somebody here so I could anchor myself to something tangible instead of having this feeling I stepped into another dimension. The trees hum with the wind and the green hues flashing all around me catch my attention. It makes me think about hospitals again, how they say that the operating rooms are painted green because green is a calming colour. So why am I feeling anxious, despite all this greenery?

...

Only after I stand in front of the haughty main building, I surprise myself by realising why the gate bothered me: It was the last chance I had to turn back, even if I had no life I could return to. But still, after entering, there was absolutely no way I could go back anymore. Feeling nervous and with this realisation set in my head, I open the front door.

A tall man with bad posture notices me as I enter. We're the only people in the lobby, so it's only logical.

"You must be Nakai." The tall man does not trip over the name as I partially expected. More than that, though, his tone is far more serious than his appearance would indicate and disarms me of any kind of intelligent response. I settle for a nod which I hope is not too feeble.

"Officially, I'm your homeroom and science teacher. My name is Mutou." Although there is no variation in his speech as he delivers this line, the content seems comical enough. I decide to try and roll with it.

"Do you have an unofficial name?" I respond, which seems to confuse him for a moment before he gathers himself. That is not the reaction I expected.

"Yes. It is also Mutou." The exceedingly dry delivery amuses me, momentarily suppressing my suspicions. "Follow me, Nakai." Unfortunately, they are rekindled immediately. An image of Mutou as a clandestine government agent appears in my mind, but I suppress the ensuing laughter. I'm almost beginning to entertain the possibility...

I follow him. We walk for some time, I realise as I begin to grow weary. Mutou eventually takes notice. It's interesting that his attention is this far away from my health, given that this is a school for disabled students. Or at least, that's what it's stated purpose is. I have no doubt that what I am being shown is not related to my education, though it might well prove to be a learning experience.

We pass through the entire school without paying much attention to the layout and ultimately end up at a circular gravel path in the midst of a small woodland. The trees here appear transplanted, but are otherwise unremarkable. Mutou gestures for me to walk the path. I oblige against the protests of my lungs and feet, though something about my method seems to displease him.

"Could you repeat that in the other direction?" I could use a rest right about now. For that reason, I also lack the energy to defy Mutou's instructions. Taking another tour around the trail, I am rather alarmed to find that my journey does not simply end. I walk uphill for what might as well be an eternity before Mutou calls out to me, his voice far closer than could be reasonably expected. My first thought is that this is a hallucination. I reverse direction again, and find myself going downhill at the expected place. Mutou watches on with an unreadable expression as I seem to forget my fatigue and focus on figuring out this puzzle.

I solve it in fairly short order, though the inference I make would be more surprising if I wasn't just about ready to keel over. This path violates the laws of physics as I know them. However, I succumb to sleep before any further thoughts can occur. Fortunately, I do not crack my head on the stone.

* * *

I wake up in my dorm room. My body seems to have appreciated the respite, though my mind is practically thrumming with activity. A path that one can travel forever, but only in a particular direction. It's behaviour is consistent and it feels more real than a figment of the imagination, possibly because this man who is masquerading as a teacher specifically led me to it.

However innocuous this path is, it behaves in an alien manner. I can only begin to suspect the existence of countless other things with far more sinister properties. Furthermore, the outward appearance of the institution as a school for the disabled can only mean that other people with possibly debilitating problems are in a position to encounter them. I steady myself with a breath. I'm already beginning to pity people I don't know for being crippled. I sincerely doubt that Yamaku would force responsibilities on people that can't cope with them, for practical if not moral reasons. I am beginning to suspect that my newfound cynicism will be a useful asset to deal with this change.

I consider the possibility that I've already seen too much. Certainly, going mad from the revelation seems like a possible route. I hear knocking on the door and promptly answer. It's Mutou, and I suspect when I am escorted to an underground chamber that I already know the course of this conversation.

"Is this the part where I join or die?"

"Nothing quite that serious. Yamaku does still teach students. You could visit here for the rest of your last year and learn everything you need to go to college." The wording catches my attention. He is careful to explain that the alternative would give me a normal life without telling me that I would actually be educated properly. I would not be surprised if Yamaku had the means to simulate a highschool experience, now that my mind is already open to the possibilities of the supernatural.

On the other hand, what's their insurance if I try and leak secrets to the public? Even what precious little I know now could undermine Yamaku.

"However, we would of course need to administer amnestics."

...

I am apparently easy to read, given the promptness of the response. I have acclimatised pretty quickly if my greatest concern with taking the amnestic is that it might cause an unforeseen complication with my heart. I have other reasons to avoid it as well. Mired as I am in the present, it is difficult to imagine a more drastic way to move forward than to become part of a government conspiracy.

Mutou seems to understand that I am considering the position, because he forges onward, giving a speech that seems rehearsed.

"You may call it Yamaku as most people do, but our operational name is the SCP Foundation. Our job is to Secure, to Contain and to Protect. As you may have deduced, creatures and objects with anomalous properties exist that could make humanity extinct. Many people come here believing that they have been sent away from the public eye to be with the other outcasts."

I can't say that wasn't one of my thought processes. He continues onward, heedless of my agreement.

"Originally, that might have been true, but the opportunity now exists here to contribute to society as no-one else can. To find these things. To recover and study them, and make them work to our benefit when we can." Some emotion bleeds into his voice, indicating that he believes in what he is saying. That he is a human and not some kind of automaton gives me some measure of relief. "If you were looking for a purpose in life, Nakai, you have found it. The question is whether you are prepared to accept the burden of knowledge."

I find the concept of willingly blinding myself to the truth to be disturbing. I could make friends that never existed and graduate with qualifications that I never earned. My life expectancy has never looked so low as now, when I wonder how the stress and fear of managing eldritch beings will get to me, but then I consider what it would be like if I lived as normal a life as I could and blundered into the latest otherworldly creature. My existence would be even more fleeting. At the very least, choosing to have some control is a comforting choice. An empowering choice.

"I am." It's as complicated as my answer needs to be.

* * *

 _AN_ : When all else fails, try to make something less expected than the Spanish inquisition. That's what I'm going for, at least. We'll see if this breaks open the creative well and allows me to continue Sprout to Saviour.

As with Pillars, The Yamaku Foundation will be updated based on whim and continuously listed as complete.

Incidentally, this story and all subsequent stories will lack disclaimers, since I am beginning to find them trite to create.


	2. Fraternising

**The Yamaku Foundation**

* * *

 **Fraternising**

* * *

~ **Hisao's POV** ~

I feel vaguely like a rat as I traverse the tunnels beneath the deceptive main building in search of my new work station, not least of which because of orientation. The foundation does not mince words. I have learned of thirty ways to disappear off the face of the Earth before so much as seeing a Euclid- or Keter-class aberration. My co-workers have proved similarly elusive, but Mutou was sure to inform me that I would get to know them well over the course of my time here. Possibly offsite for the moment, then.

Another intimidating thought occurs to me. The situation is still fresh in my mind, but my peers have had two extra years to acclimatise. How will I be able to integrate with them, then? It's an unusual thought to have in this environment, but I have heard that dangerous things happen to the sanity of people who spend too long cloistered away without friends. My musings are interrupted as I arrive at my office. A quick analysis reveals that it's technically the office of Shizune Hakamichi and Shiina Mikado, since they have seniority over me. After all, my name is not actually listed next to the door yet. I spend time glancing listlessly at the directions in my hands. It proves to be underwhelming entertainment, so I put them away and resort to idle reflection. If nothing else, my experiences in the hospital have given me practice.

I hear brazen laughter originating from down the corridor. Arching an eyebrow, I spare a glance at the source and am met with a bubbly-looking girl with golden eyes. Her most striking feature, however, is her vividly pink hair formed into drills at the front. My impression is that she is cute, but overbearingly cheerful. She is signing and looking to her right. I follow her gaze to see a similarly cute girl who is much more restrained in appearance and posture. Her hair is shorter and a pair of oval glasses sits atop her delicate nose, covering eyes that, on closer inspection, drift between curiosity and boredom. I cannot discern the contents of the conversation, but my attempts are noted - the girl on the right sees me observing their hands and approaches me.

I ask if they are Hakamichi and Mikado. The pink-haired girl laughs heartily, which is not particularly courteous, before nodding in affirmation and continuing the introduction.

"Yes! You don't need to be so formal, though. Feel free to call us Misha and Shicchan~!"She says, pointing to the respective people. A blush adorns the face of 'Shicchan' as she silently issues what appears to be a hasty correction. Misha passes the message on to me.

"Perhaps Shizune would be more appropriate?" Shizune visibly relaxes, supporting this claim.

"That would be more comfortable." I conclude. Misha continues with her introduction.

"Shicchan's deaf, so I sign things back and forth for her. I'm like an interpreter~!" I'd have thought she _was_ an interpreter, but perhaps she doesn't consider herself one because she doesn't act in an official capacity. They give the impression of being close friends despite their apparent differences, so Shizune probably goes through professional translators when talking to command. Perhaps she is used to people not looking at her when she is 'speaking', but I feel bad about focusing mostly on Misha. My instincts are not very helpful here. Almost as an afterthought, Misha asks if I am Hisao Nakai, which I confirm. I figured they were operating under the assumption that I was, given my current location and the fact that I am expected to refer to them so casually.

"We knew there was going to be a new arrival, but we didn't know you would be here today. So soon! So~, Hicchan!" I cannot stress how much I dislike that nickname. I communicate this to Misha via an unamused stare that seems to dampen her spirits a little bit. "Come on, it fits~! You look just like I imagined!" I look to Shizune, who is smiling wryly at me. She seems to agree with Misha. I sigh.

"Why does everyone think I look like a Hicchan?" If my question was heard by Misha, she shows no indication of it. Shizune withdraws a key and opens the office, gesturing for me to enter. I hesitate. It is rude for a man to enter first, even if directed to, but Shizune's expression and outstretched hand do not shift. I decide to obey, if only to prevent her from standing in what must be a fairly uncomfortable position, and take a seat next to the most barren desk available. It proves to be the correct choice, as Shizune takes the opposite desk and Misha sits in the middle. Having officially registered on the foundation, I am able to go straight to work proofreading SCP entries and test logs. It is very menial work, for which I am grateful. I'm sure I will come to hate the monotony, but with luck I will have become trusted and experienced enough to deal with SCPs more directly by that point. At the very least, Misha seems to be enjoying work, even if her cheer is exaggerated.

I cease to hear typing from the direction of Shizune and Misha. After examining one last paragraph, I look at them and see that Shizune is signing. Misha's automatic translation is impressive, even if I am already paying scarce attention to it.

"Shicchan wants to know how much of the building you've seen!" That stumps me for a moment. I have been here for less than two days and my first day was orientation, which she would have gone through as well. What time would I have had to see anything else other than this office? I voice this sentiment.

"You must have had breaks at some point, Hicchan!" Though her tone changes with every other word anyway, I get the impression that Misha is not amused. Then again, the content is being relayed directly from Shizune. Judging from how serious she looks, it is not surprising that she would be the kind of person to use a break to scout out the perimeter. Perhaps she should just take up reading.

"Yes." I consider elaborating that I'd prefer to avoid the possibility of getting lost, but that would be equivalent to admitting a poor sense of direction, which I am disinclined to do in front of relative strangers. Especially those who are essentially challenging me. My succinct answer has the intended effect, preventing Misha and Shizune from formulating a response for long enough that they decide to simply drop the line of inquiry and move on.

"Do you have plans for lunch?" Are they trying to drag me into something?

"Not really." Unfortunately, I sunk my chance to have time to myself when I conceded that I haven't had time to set anything up.

"Would you like to have lunch together then?" That's pretty forward of them and not what I would have expected, but then I am a co-worker now and it wouldn't hurt for us to try and start off on the right foot.

"Sure." I am very laconic today. Misha brightens up a little more at my answer and I am led off at a blazing pace by the two of them. Misha and Shizune contrast a lot, but one thing they certainly have in common is energy - certainly moreso than me, after being cooped up in a hospital for months. Fortunately, the exercise is not strenuous enough for me to have an episode, and I do not wish to tell them to slow down on account of my condition. Maybe when I get to know them better.

We end up in the break room, having beaten most of the traffic by virtue of arriving early. Shizune looks vaguely annoyed as she gestures for me to join a group of four girls who have already made themselves comfortable around an open pizza box. I am surprised to see one of them close the box with her feet, but more surprised to see a pizza appear when she raises the lid. Interesting...there seems to be no policy against using SCPs for the betterment of mankind, even for a loose enough definition that includes a good meal. The tallest of the girls clears her throat. It seems introductions are in order again.


	3. Scattered Threads

**The Yamaku Foundation**

* * *

 **Scattered Threads**

* * *

~ **Hisao's POV** ~

"I take it you're a new arrival at Yamaku?" She asks. Shizune seems tempted to throw in a sarcastic interjection, but the extra time it would take for the remark to be translated and the response to be translated back deters her. The fact that Lilly doesn't notice, and that she isn't looking in my general direction, tells me that she is blind.

"Yes." I ask, attempting to match the beautiful girl's calm and measured tone.

"Feel free to take a seat." She responds. I am reminded that I have spent the last few moments standing awkwardly next to one of the empty chairs and quickly amend that, contemplating how she could have known I was standing. That she waited until I talked suggested that she can discern from the origin of my voice when I am standing up. There are workarounds for problems I haven't even considered. I am also curious about her voice, which has no distinguishable accent, challenging her foreign appearance. She must be at least partially Japanese.

"I'm Lilly Satou. Pleased to meet you."

"Hisao. Hisao Nakai." Lilly nods, shakes my hand and returns her attention to the pizza in front of her. The latter action seems unusually rude given my first impression, but I guess she must be trying to prompt the other girls to join in without explicitly telling them, which might be considered a bigger breach of etiquette. I could quite easily imagine her looking a them expectantly if...It is best to avoid continuing this train of thought.

"Hanako I-Ikezawa." The dark-haired girl next to Lilly says, her voice barely above a whisper. I instinctively turn to look at her, and am startled to see the extensive scarring on the left side of her face. Well, I suppose it would be the right side for her. Hanako's hair hangs over as if to try and cover it, but she cannot reasonably conceal the scars completely. With some effort, I hold my gaze, careful to avoid looking a directly at the scars. The act is not overly difficult, since Hanako is not hard on the eyes despite her circumstances. In any case, turning away now would be insulting. I hold my hand out, which seems to confuse her until she realises I am trying for a handshake. Hanako quickly obliges, despite her obvious discomfort. I am sure she is relieved when my attention turns to the next girl in the sequence.

"Rin. Rin Tezuka. Tezuka Rin." She says, after using her feet to put her fork on the table for a moment. "I won't shake hands with you, but at least we know who we are now. That's very nice." Her deadpan delivery makes it difficult to tell if she is joking, but given her strange smile, I will assume she is. It is impressive, then, that she is able to make light of something like this. Impressive and disorienting. Rin's eyes are intense, seeming to look beyond me even as she speaks. It takes me a little longer than I am comfortable with to look away. Rin seems to have lost interest in me, looking yearningly at her pizza. Any opportunity to pursue this further is lost, which leaves one more.

"Emi Ibarazaki." I must look confused as to the nature of her disability - and isn't it insulting that I automatically assumed she had one? - because she appends something extra to her greeting as she shakes my hand. "Fastest thing on no legs!" she announces with pride as she lifts one of her legs above the table for a moment. It looks disturbingly artificial. I draw a breath, and the atmosphere in the room changes as if the present company can sense that I am about to disclose my disability. I would decide against it, except I know the limits of these girls, and if I am to work with them they must know my limits as well. I cannot just blurt something out, though. As a last-ditch attempt to salvage the more jovial mood from before, I try to make a joke out of it, something made more difficult because Shizune is looking at me like a hawk. This probably isn't appropriate at all, but here goes nothing.

"Problems of the heart. The literal kind."

Lilly, Hanako and Shizune arch an eyebrow, Rin appears confused and Emi appears to understand.

"I didn't think it was anything in your head, and something in your guts would have been too ordinary, unlike this hyperspace pizza. And not at all delicious. I was going to suggest the problem was in your pants. Then again, the heart and the pants are kind of related..." Rin utters, seemingly a little bamboozled that her quiet revelation might be wrong. I should probably elaborate on the exact problem.

"Rin, he said the heart problem was literal. The heart is only metaphorically connected to the pants." Emi attempts to clarify.

"So his tackle is a metaphor for what's wrong with his heart?" Rin asks, and her voice is innocent enough that she might well be genuinely considering the possibility. Emi adopts an expression that is an odd mixture between outrage and amusement.

"My tackle isn't involved." I correct, perhaps a little too quickly. "I have arrythmia. Congenital heart defect that makes my pulse erratic, increasing risk of a heart attack." I half-expect Rin to pick up on my use of the word congenital, but she becomes just as solemn as everyone else. Way to bring everyone down, Hisao. You are a shining conversationalist.

"Hisao...There was a-another reason we wanted you here..." Surprisingly, Hanako chimes in with a very helpful change of topic.

"Right..." Misha adds, translating for Shizune. "Command wanted you take part in a trial for SCP-2203 after lunch~!"

"Which one was that, again?" Shizune's reflexive smile is almost predatory, giving her an allure which I would be hard-pressed to deny.

"Why, it's the love tester, Hicchan~!" I gulp, quickly busying myself with the pizza to avoid overthinking things. It is supremely delicious and I barely restrain the urge to devour as much as possible, taking a mental note to stay far away from the box in future for the wellbeing of my heart, which surely couldn't handle as much as I want to eat. With a little time to reflect, I realise that, to accompany me for testing, the girls must all have some kind of investment approved by command.

The meal ends quickly, and before I know it, the time for testing begins. Misha is replaced by an official translator, lending enough quietness to the scene to build up tension. Activating the machine, I wait for feedback. The wait isn't long, as the machine settles on "Mild". Five cards eject from the machine, prompting the supervisor to gasp in surprise. I assume this is a first as I read the cards in turn, and it is my turn to gape like a fish.

* * *

-Shizune Hakamichi-

[Redacted]

Can you tell me what you think?

* * *

-Lilly Satou-

[Redacted]

Can you see what I see?

* * *

-Hanako Ikezawa-

[Redacted]

Can you face your fears?

* * *

-Rin Tezuka-

[Redacted]

Can you seize the day?

* * *

-Emi Ibarazaki-

[Redacted]

Can you stand up for yourself?

* * *

It's...them. They knew I would get this result, or at least that it was a possibility. Shizune asks the supervisor if they can give their results in exchange, which he accepts.

"Passionate." The translator says for Shizune, his mask of disinterest contrasting brilliantly against her self-satisfied grin, somehow proud of achieving a high score on a completely arbitrary reading.

"Naughty but nice." Lilly says, encapsulating this sentiment in her expression.

"Harmless..." Hanako says, a little downcast. I feel vaguely angry at SCP-2203, but the feeling passes.

"Wild." Rin said. "I wonder if..." Emi promptly cuts her off, probably a good decision.

"Burning." Emi says, looking much more cheerful than most people who say that word. Hanako flinches almost immeasurably.

The supervisor hands me five cards, their contents identical.

Well then. Working here is going to be interesting.

* * *

Hisao Nakai

[Redacted]

Can you bare your heart?

* * *

 _AN_ : The addresses aren't actually redacted in-universe, but I'm not sure if the game ever reveals what they are, so I took a page from the SCP Foundation's book. I apologise if the page dividers are annoying. They aren't going to be too common.


End file.
